


What You Want

by WindStainedDreams



Series: Like Calls to Like (And Bonds Us All) [2]
Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Ambition, Angry Sex, F/F, F/M, Favouritism, Femslash February, Femslash February 2017, Hatesex, Jealousy, Post-Canon, mentions blood but no one is really hurt, spoilers for the entire series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9614393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindStainedDreams/pseuds/WindStainedDreams
Summary: Zoya was the Darkling’s favourite, before Alina came along.





	

 

 

Alina sat at the Etherealki table, watching the crimson _keftas_ shift across from her as the Corporalniks ate their meals with much more enthusiasm than she felt.  She picked at the herring on her plate, sick of it after less than a month of eating it at every meal.  She still couldn't summon, was still a useless ghost among all the other Grisha.  She hated how on edge she felt because of it.

 

Another group of Grisha came in from the dormitories, this time a small group of girls, giggling away at something someone had said.  While Alina had meant only to glance briefly at them, she looked back up, eyes fixing on the figure in the middle of the trio.  Zoya was as beautiful as ever, dark hair shining in the light from the dome above.  Her pale skin glowed and she smirked when she caught Alina watching her.  Instead of joining the rest of the Grisha for the morning meal, Zoya parted ways with her friends and slid past the large black doors and into the Darkling’s chambers. 

 

Many of the other Grisha had stopped their chatter to stare at the closing door, and Alina took the chance to scan the room more closely.  Ivan was also missing, as well as some of the other Grisha she had seen working with the Darkling before.  Whatever they were planning, Alina doubted she’d be involved.  Somehow, that stung.  Maybe it was the look Zoya had given her before she left the room.  It said, quite clearly, _I know something that you don’t, and you’re not even important enough to him to know about it._  

 

Alina felt her cheeks flush, an unhealthy, blotchy red.  Marie commented on her face briefly to ask if she was feeling well before promptly ignoring her once again and sighing about Ivan not being at breakfast with them.  Alina ignored the second slight of the morning, and finished her breakfast in silence.  Something Nadia had said one of her first days at the Little Palace rang in her head.  _Zoya was the Darkling’s favourite, before you came along._  

 

*****

 

Lessons with Botkin were never as easy for Alina as they were for the Grisha who could use their powers, and she was winded from the latest sparring match she had lost against the weapons master.  She leaned against the wall in the open stables, watching others spar or drill with weapons.  Her chest ached as much from trying to breathe as it did from the repeated hits it had taken.  She desperately hoped that she would not be one of the ones called up to demonstrate something at the end of the lessons.  Everyone seemed to be equally likely, and it depended on if Botkin wanted to praise or chastise something you were doing. 

 

The sparring matches wrapped up and Botkin cleared a circle in the middle of the training area.  He called out a large Healer who seemed to tower over many of the others, and had him face the middle of the room.  He then scanned the crowd, apparently looking for someone specific.  Alina felt her heart in her throat that she would be the one to face him.  Luckily, he pointed somewhere over her right shoulder, and Alina relaxed against the wall. 

 

She flinched when whoever it was stepped on her toes as they walked past.  She opened her eyes and saw the dark braid swinging behind Zoya as she took her place in the middle of the circle, blue _kefta_ swaying smoothly with each step.  No wonder Mal and the Darkling preferred to stare after her.  Alina was mostly used to being second best by now.  She was also used to the feel of the ugly blush across her cheeks.  She hoped no one was looking her way to call attention to it. 

 

For the rest of the demonstration, Alina’s eyes were fixed on Zoya as the other girl defended and attacked, showing off for the class.  The Squaller danced around the Healer with a grace and agility that Alina could never hope to possess.  The fluid movements were mesmerizing.  Alina had to remind herself to breathe; she was so interested in the match.  When it was over, Alina didn’t even realize she was panting as hard as Zoya, shining in her triumph over the Healer, who lay in the dirt clutching his leg and being tended to by his classmates.   

 

A week later, Zoya broke her ribs when she slammed her into the wall. 

 

*****

 

Alina was on her way to her room, having just finished climbing up the three flights of stairs, and ready to drop.  Her lessons with Baghra had been useless once again.  It was dark, most of the other Grisha either lounging around the main hall or in their rooms for the night.  There was only the light from the window at the far end illuminating the hall, but it didn’t bother Alina.  Her room was the farthest down, door clearly lit by the pale moon.  The Sun Summoner knew that there was a stack of books on Grisha theory waiting for her to read once she got into bed, but even knowing more about her power did not appeal at all at the moment. 

 

She was so tired, her eyes were mostly shut and it took longer than it should have for her to notice that there was something odd about the corridor.  By the time Alina fully realized she may not be alone, the air around her was thick and solid, pressing in on her from all sides and making it impossible to even scream. 

 

“I don’t know why he thinks you’re so special, but really, all this nonsense has to stop sometime.  I just want you to know that one day you’ll be gone, and I’ll still be right here.”

 

The familiar voice fell from soft, painted lips and teased her as they slid into her ear, brushing against her hair.  Zoya’s smooth tones almost caressed her ear, making it feel like the other girl was leaning close behind her even if Alina was almost certain Zoya wasn’t actually there.  Alina didn’t know how the girl was pinning her without being seen, but there was no denying the shiver of fear Alina felt when Zoya didn’t immediately release her.  The other Summoner’s presence was all around her, and Alina could do nothing to fight back. 

 

She realized as the voice kept whispering in her ear that she didn’t _want_ to fight back.  Zoya was right; she was a simple orphan, a nobody.  There was no reason for her to be here if she couldn’t summon.  Alina was tired enough that the idea of just giving in to the other girl was almost more appealing than fighting back. 

 

Just as suddenly as the air thickened around her, it dissipated back to normal, and Alina stumbled as the support around her disappeared.  She could have sworn she heard Zoya’s mocking laughter echo down the hall as she dropped to her knees, gasping for air. 

 

It took most of the night for Alina’s heart to stop pounding and the hot flush to leave her skin. 

 

*****

 

The after-hours fighting was totally unacceptable and wrong and dangerous and _Mal was going to get hurt_.   But none of those things seemed to stop him, as the crowd cheered and jeered and passed money back and forth.  Tamar was by her side, trying to hold her back, stop her from interfering, but Mal was in the dirt and the Squaller he was facing was using his powers to toss him around like a leaf in the wind.  The cuts and bruises on Mal’s torso were like a punch in the gut and Alina felt every blow hit her as well as Mal.  This needed to stop, _now_. 

 

Before Alina could get close enough to the open ring, Mal charged.  The Squaller was pinned, beaten, and Mal collected himself, not even noticing Alina was standing in the crowd as Zoya slid up to him, pressed all along his sweating body. 

 

Alina’s mouth went dry.  What she had thought was blind rage before was nothing compared to the swell of hurt and vicious, violent hate that crashed over her like the waves of the sea in a tempest.  Zoya kissed Mal, and Alina turned away, storming from the training hut before Tamar could stop her. 

 

She stifled a sob, running away from the light of the training hut, needing to get anywhere that was away from Zoya and Mal’s embrace.  The image of their passionate kiss stayed seared behind her eyelids and the tears spilled over her cheeks as she stumbled in the dark.  Alina wanted to scream, but when she opened her mouth, the name caught in her throat and wouldn’t pass her lips.  Whether the wind would have carried away a strangled Mal, or if it was Zoya’s name that choked her, only the darkness knew. 

 

*****

 

This time when Zoya trapped her in the corridor, Alina was half expecting it.  It was early morning, before sunrise, and Alina had spent most of the night sobbing in the woods.  She had hoped that by avoiding Mal and the twins in the Darkling’s chambers and staying in her old room she might have some small measure of peace before she had to face them again.

 

Dead on her feet, Alina let the air pressure increase around her without summoning light to block it or blind Zoya.  This time, Zoya faced her, standing in the shadows where the light stopped.  Her lips were pressed tight, a small curve highlighted by the moon bouncing off the polished floor.  Satisfaction radiated from her, confidence battering at Alina’s already weakened emotional defenses.  Alina didn’t want to know if Mal’s smell was still clinging to her clothes.  She couldn’t help but wonder, though.  Would there be traces of his scent lingering in her hair if Alina pulled it?  Would her lips taste like Mal?

 

Alina’s breath stuttered as Zoya came closer, chin raised, blue eyes firm where they met Alina’s.  The air around her pressed Alina back against the wall next to her door, cool stone leeching her warmth from her.  Zoya came closer still, until they were barely a foot apart.  Alina felt the heat of the other girl’s body, wanted to be closer.  To feel something that passed for something good in this place rotten at the core. 

 

“I still hate that every time I kiss him, he’s thinking of you.  And every time he smiles and looks proud, it’s not me he’s proud of.  It’s all your fault.  If you didn’t exist, my life would still be normal,” Zoya hissed, bitterness dripping from her words to strike Alina’s skin. 

 

The closer she got in her anger, the more Alina could see her face.  Zoya’s eyes were dark and red rimmed, as if she too had been crying sometime in the night.  That bit of emotion cracked at Alina’s own leashed rage, and she spat back.

 

“You have him, you have him and I don’t and you can’t just let me forget it.  I don’t want to be here anymore because it twists everything up and it’s not _right_ anymore.  It’s not the way it should have been.  And I’m sick of it all.  I’m sick of you.”

 

Zoya took half a step back, gasping as if Alina had taken the air from her lungs.  She recovered quickly, tightening the air around Alina’s body, pressing her harder against the stone.  Something flashed in her eyes as she stepped closer, a cruel smile playing over her still painted lips. 

 

“I do have him, don’t I?” she whispered slowly in Alina’s ear, leaning forward so her lips brushed the shell as she talked, the only point of contact between them.  Alina turned her head away, flushing brightly.  The dark chuckle in her ear sent a shiver down her spine, but Alina refused to admit it was anything but the stone at her back, even if it had warmed comfortably from her body heat.  Zoya seemed to take Alina’s shame as a victory in whatever battle they waged, because she continued, seductive.

 

“I have his taste on my tongue, his hands on my body, caressing me.  Would you like to see, Alina?  Do you want me to show you what I have and you don’t?”

 

Something inside Alina broke. 

 

She reached out blindly with her lips, and it was impossible to tell who first leaned into the kiss.  Teeth and tongues and sharp edges, exactly like they both were, grating against each other more than a close fit.  Zoya’s hands were on Alina’s waist, slipping up her ribs, nails catching the fine material of her _kefta_.  Alina’s hands were suddenly free and she grabbed a fistful of Zoya’s hair, pulling it back hard enough to earn her a growl. 

 

Alina put her lips to Zoya’s pale neck, licking along the tendons that stood out as they strained.  The other girl gave a huff before breaking away completely, only to open the door to Alina’s old room.  They stumbled in the dark, headed towards the bed. 

 

“He’s always so eager, such a flirt and a charmer, but I’m sure you know that much,” Zoya taunted, pushing Alina back so that she sat on the edge of her bed, breathing hard.  Alina pulled Zoya closer, pinned her between her legs and kissing her fiercely so that she wouldn’t be able to say any more. 

 

They broke the kiss and Alina panted, “He’s always considerate, gentle, patient –”

 

Zoya cut her off with another angry kiss, before biting out the words against Alina’s lips, “He doesn’t hold back, likes exploring, teasing,” another gasp, another bite of teeth, Alina wasn’t sure if she tasted blood from her lip or whether it was Mal’s blood on Zoya’s tongue, “driving me insane with want.”

 

Alina had no rebuttal, knowing Mal had been patient with her, kind, almost painfully so.  She continued to kiss Zoya, tracing her figure through the layers of her _kefta_.  The feel of soft roundness where Mal was solid and flat should have brought her back to her sense, but Zoya was doing something incredibly talented with her tongue and Alina’s neck, along the collar made by the antlers, and Alina did not care. 

 

*****

 

Zoya never stopped critiquing her, but Alina found less of a personal sting in the words in the coming days and weeks.  The Squaller pushed for a greater role for herself, but pushed Alina along to rise to the challenge of running the Second Army.  To most outsiders, nothing seemed to have changed, and it really hadn’t. 

 

Their occasional moments together in whatever privacy Alina could find, usually up in her old room, were always just as sharp and passionate as their jealousy and ambition had made them that first night.  Things were never gentle between them, but the urge to do harm seemed to have lessened as they realized how good it felt to be together. 

 

One morning, Alina woke before dawn to see flashes of gold and silver flying about the room in the grey light sliding through her window.  The curtains hadn’t been completely drawn, and the two of them had fallen asleep tangled together the night before.  Zoya was about to slip into the _kefta_ she had picked up and leave, scurrying back to her room to hide what they were doing, when Alina caught the bright warm flash of her cuffs. 

 

“Zoya!” she hissed under her breath, still groggy with sleep.  The dark-haired girl turned to face her, eyebrow raised in the half-light. 

 

“Wrong _kefta_ ,” Alina mumbled, mostly blocked by the pillow.  Zoya glanced down and saw the gold cuffs of the garment she was holding and snorted. 

 

“I guess I can’t be the Sun Summoner, can I?” and tossed the silk unceremoniously over the foot of the bed, picking up her own silver-cuffed _kefta_ and slipping into it with more grace than should be possible so early. 

 

It was only after Zoya left, door softly clicking behind her, that Alina wondered if there was bitterness and envy in Zoya’s voice as she held the gold-embroidered _kefta_ in her hands.  The grey pre-dawn was soft enough around the edges that Alina could ignore that thought and instead focus on how her body felt the stiffness of well-used muscles, the sting of bite marks being exposed to the air where the blanket fell off, and the satisfaction of a night well spent.  She drifted back into her dreams until the sun rose completely and bathed her in its light. 

 

*****

 

Zoya found the white-haired woman sitting under a tree in a small garden by the orphanage, hands twisting in the beams of sunlight coming through the branches.  She wondered if the blue _kefta_ had ever been worn, if it mattered that the trim was silver, not gold.  Zoya couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have all her powers stripped from her, emptied out of that joy, that feeling of connection to everything around her.  The air was a part of Zoya, to suddenly not feel it at all would be devastating. 

 

She watched for a while longer, studying the woman she had once found so vexing.  She was startled from her thoughts when the other woman spoke softly, voice carrying on the breeze. 

 

“You were right, you know.”

 

“Right about what, exactly, this time?”

 

“You’re still there, stronger than ever, his favourite, and I’m nothing once more.” 

 

Zoya felt the bile in her throat, tears pricking her eyes, and fled. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Week 1 - Ambition 
> 
> This prompt got a little away from me, because the girls were insisting on hate!sex, regardless of the connection to ambition, but I hope it worked out well enough in the end. 
> 
> As always, please feel free to leave a comment for me here on the archive or [ on my Tumblr ](https://tinbramblearts.tumblr.com) so I know what you think.


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